You, A Feeling I Can't Deny
by DizzyAlice
Summary: So apparently Stan and Kyle have been dating for months and never bothered to tell anyone. Hm. But this... this thing I have with Kyle, how much will that really affect it? Hopefully a lot. I don't want to feel like this. Not for him. STyle, K2.
1. I Felt Real Good About Myself, That's

_You, A Feeling I Can't Deny_  
_Chapter One - I felt real good about myself, that's until the day you showed me you needed anybody else_

A/N: Wow, I haven't written any fanfics in a long time. I was going through depravation and I needed to fix it so I wrote this o_o I dunno how good it is, seeing as it's like, two in the morning right now... But I wanted to finish the first part at least. This fic contains major amounts of STyle but will ultimately be K2. And is obviously told in Kenny's POV. I dunno how long the STyle will last, or when the K2 will actually start, or when Kyle will have more than like, 3 lines of dialogue in a chapter... But hopefully soon. Reviews are muchly appreciated =)

I don't own South Park, and I definitely don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

The chilly autumn breeze ruffled my blonde hair slightly as I stepped out the front door. Ah, fall. I loved this time of year. It was almost cold enough to start snowing again, but not quite. Though I have to say, the air was biting a bit through my wizard cloak as I made my way out to the street, clutching a curly brunette wig in one hand and a broomstick in the other.

For fall being my favorite time of year, Halloween was probably my favorite day of the year. The anonymity of it all was very appealing to me – I had never been one keen on letting people know who I was, even as a kid. Plus, who could turn down free candy?

I didn't bother ringing the doorbell as I finally arrived at Stan's house. A feeling of peace had somewhat settled in me on the walk over, but that feeling was very quickly shattered the second I opened the door to Stan's bedroom. Stan was pressing Kyle's wildly curly red hair with Shelly's "borrowed" flatiron, yelling at Kyle to hold still unless he wanted to get burned. Kyle was busy loudly complaining that straightening his hair was completely unnecessary, and how just because he had red hair didn't mean he automatically should be Ron.

"This a bad time?" I asked, surprised that they managed to hear me over their arguing. A small grin spread on my lips.

"Hey, Kenny. Where's your wig?" Stan asked, hardly glancing at me. I held it up. "Once I finish with Kyle's hair we should be just about ready."

"I wanted to be Harry," Kyle grumbled.

"Too bad," Stan replied. "Now hold _still_."

"Hey, at least you didn't get stuck being a chick," I told him, rolling my eyes as I finally decided to put the wig on. Apparently I was the only one comfortable enough with my femininity that I was willing to dress as Hermione.

"Done," Stan said, flicking off and unplugging the flatiron. Kyle got up to examine himself in the mirror. Straight, his hair was much longer than usual, nearly grazing his shoulders, and hanging in his face in a way that it constantly needed to be pushed aside.

"I look so stupid," he muttered.

"You look hot," Stan countered, "And very Weasley-ish. I like it."

I groaned. "Can we get going, please? We're gonna miss the whole party." Stan sighed and nodded, grabbing his fake glasses off his nightstand, leading the way out the door.

By the time we finally got to Craig's annual Halloween party, it was already in full blast. There was obviously alcohol around somewhere, because mostly everyone seemed more than a little tipsy.

I poked Kyle in the shoulder. "Hey, you brought your camera, right?"

"Yeah, of course." He pulled it out of a hidden pocket in his costume, handing it to me.

"I want to get a picture of the three of us before we inevitably split up," I replied, pressing buttons until I eventually got the digital camera to turn on. Kyle's camera was pretty nice, and definitely not something I could ever afford. "Stan! Get over here."

We all piled together, trying to fit in the tiny frame as I held the camera in my outstretched arm.

"Say cheese," Kyle said, his breath warm and tickling in my ear. I pushed the shutter down and was rewarded with a satisfying flash.

"Oops, I accidentally cut off part of Stan's head," I muttered, examining the picture on the lit-up screen.

"It's fine," Kyle promised, smiling. He looked up to see Stan wandering off again. I rolled my eyes.

"Go ahead," I allowed with a grin. He shrugged sheepishly and trailed after Stan. I made my way through the rest of the crowd, hopefully to score some alcohol.

"Kenneh!" called an all-too-familiar voice. "Kenneh wait up!"

I groaned, turning around to see Cartman ambling towards me, dressed as I knew he would be in a Hitler outfit he had worn for Halloween the past who knows how many years in a row. "How did you know it was me from the back, anyways?" I wanted to know, scratching my head. Man, this wig was itchy.

He snorted. "I'd recognize that po' boy ass anywhere."

My eyebrows shot up. "So you were checking out my ass?"

"What? No, you know that's not what I meant. I'm no fag," he insisted, his brown eyes widening slightly.

"Sure, Cartman. Whatever you say." I rolled my eyes and turned to walk away.

"Yeah, that's right, Kenneh! You walk away! You fucking walk!" he yelled after me. I ignored him, chuckling softly to myself as I went.

I discovered the booze soon enough, in the form of a suspicious-looking bowl of punch spiked so that it was pretty much vodka with pink food coloring in it. Needless to say, the party grew much more entertaining after that.

As soon as I realized I never gave Kyle his camera back, I decided to use this to my advantage. I went around taking pictures of everyone and everything, whether it be a shot of me making a pass at Powder or a pseudo-artistic photo of a can someone had left lying around. I mostly just wandered, using this chance as an opportunity to undergo some of my favorite pastimes – hitting on girls and getting progressively more drunk.

I was still talking to Powder when I caught something out of the corner of my eye. "I'll be right back, sweetie," I promised, before heading off to investigate.

I had to keep from crying out when my suspicions were confirmed. Off in the corner, oblivious to everything else going on around them, Kyle and Stan were off on their own with their lips glued together. But instead of making noise, I lifted the camera once again and snapped a picture. Once the flash went off they sprang apart like nobody's business.

"Wow, that is _hot_," I said, grinning as I examined the photo now lighting up the screen. "Harry and Ron lovin'."

"Kenny, give me the camera," Kyle growled, glaring daggers at me.

I gasped, sounding as distraught as I could manage without laughing. "But, Ronald," I exclaimed, putting on my best fake British accent. "I thought you were with me! And Harry – whatever will you do about Ginny?"

"Kenny, give me the fucking camera!" Kyle roared. Stan appeared to be trying his best to blend in with the wall behind him. Obviously it wasn't working well.

"No way, dude," I laughed. "This shit's going on the internet. No way I'm letting you delete it." Still laughing, I ducked back into the crowd, making a mad dash for my life as Kyle's angry words followed me.

Really, it was a miracle someone hadn't seen them sooner. There were people everywhere. Though mostly everyone was drunk and therefore not paying the closest attention to who was making out in what corner.

As for Stan and Kyle, I always kind of suspected, but this is the first time there's ever actually been any proof… I mean, everyone talks about how obvious it is that they're together, but still. As far as I've seen they've been nothing but the best of friends.

The rest of the party was pretty much a blur after that. I think a lot of people were leaving by the time I finally curled up in a corner somewhere and died. Just for the record, I mean that literally.

I woke up groaning as my vision was infiltrated by a terribly obnoxious light. It took me a while to get my eyes open far enough to realize that the light was, in fact, the sun, shining through a crack in my curtains to fall right on my eyes. I soon discovered I was lying on my bed, still in my costume, the wizard cloak open over the schoolboy outfit I had worn underneath, with no recollection of how I had gotten there or pretty much anything that happened the previous night. Sitting up and scratching my head, which was pounding like hell, I noticed a lump in one of my pockets. I reached in, pulling out Kyle's camera, which I had apparently never given back to him.

Turning it on, I started scanning through the pictures. They were mostly crappy and didn't help me remember much of what had happened. There were numerous shots of people's feet, and random trash lying around. I don't know what was up with that. There were also a few shots of Powder, with her long wavy red hair and her costume of I don't even know what, something with wings, but it was really sexy either way. I grinned to myself as I recalled hitting on her all night and, finally towards the end of the party, when we made out for a while. That was nice.

I kept scrolling through the pictures, memories flooding back to me. Powder, Powder, more feet, Stan and Kyle kissing, more Powder – wait a minute. I pressed the back button, staring at the picture on the screen.

How could I have forgotten about something like _that_? Wow. But looking at the photo of Stan and Kyle lip-locked, I remembered. It was kind of weird that they were actually dating – that is, if they were dating, and that wasn't just drunken making out. Good for them, I guess.

There was a tiny pang deep inside me somewhere, seeing them like that. Almost like – like sadness, like… jealousy? Why would I be jealous? I got to make out with my own sexy redhead last night.

…_Did I seriously just think of Kyle as sexy?_

Okay, this was not going to work. I don't like guys. Not like that. It's – it's fine for Stan, and for Kyle, if they do, but not for _me_. I'm Kenny fucking McCormick. Sighing, I shut off the camera and lay back down on my bed.

_Screw this, I'm going back to sleep._


	2. I Can't Believe I Never Saw All These

_You, A Feeling I Can't Deny  
Chapter Two - I Can't Believe I Never Saw All These Clues_

A/N: This one's a bit shorter but I wanted to finish it and get it up because I'm leaving for three weeks and won't be able to update... So yeah. Reviews make me a happy biscuit. =)

* * *

I got up for good sometime later in the afternoon. Not feeling like dealing with my parents, I quickly evacuated my house to go out for a walk. There were grey clouds looming ominously in the sky. It was definitely cold enough out to snow, and it looked like we would be experiencing the first one of the year sometime in the very near future.

Town was mostly empty. Then again, it usually is. Our town is pretty small, so there don't tend to be a lot of people out and about at the same time, unless something big is going on.

As I walked, I reached the rec center. On the other side of a chain-link fence was a basketball court, occupied by one lone player. I stopped, leaning against the fence as my fingers curled around the chains, watching him.

Kyle was a couple inches shorter than me, but unlike me, who had never really grown into my height, he managed his well. I was gawky and thin, awkward with my limbs flailing everywhere. He, however, used his height to his advantage. Watching him play basketball, I saw a grace in him I had never really known he could possess. That probably sounds totally gay, but I don't know how else to describe it.

"Hey," I called. He turned towards me just as the ball released from his fingers, creating a perfect arch through the air and landing in the basket with a soft _swoosh_. "Mind if I join you?"

He grinned. "Sure. Come on."

We played a short game of pick-up then, one-on-one. Kyle easily beat me. But then again, I was fairly out of practice. Being boys, we rather lost ourselves to the competitiveness for a while, concentrating on the game. All thoughts of the previous night's party, or the impending snowstorm, or anything else, for that matter, had vanished. At that moment my life revolved around an orange sphere of rubber.

But the game had to end at some point, and when it did, reality came crashing back around me.

We made our way over to one of the benches on the side of the court, flopping down as I tried to come up with an acceptable way to pop the question that had been niggling at me all day.

"So," I began casually. "How long have you and Stan been… you know?"

His face heated then, and his eyes shifted to the ground. "A few months," he mumbled.

I arched an eyebrow. That was a bit longer than I had been expecting. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I…" He frowned, glancing back up at me for a second before looking away again. "I dunno, dude. I guess I just didn't really know how you would take it. And Stan doesn't really want it getting out yet."

Somehow I felt kind of hurt that Kyle hadn't felt like he could confide in me. I mean, it's not like we've ever been the best of friends or anything, but I feel like he's probably the first person I would turn to if I had huge, potentially life-changing news. Although he's always had Stan for that.

"You really think I would be anything less than okay with it? I'm your friend, Kyle. Yours and Stan's. I want you guys to be happy. And if you're what makes each other happy, then that's great for you."

He smiled, his eyes finally connecting with mine, electric green boring into me. I could see him visibly relax as he exhaled. "Thanks, Kenny. You have no idea how much that means." A silent moment passed, before panic filled his expression again as something dawned on him. "You didn't tell anyone, did you?"

I grinned. "You kidding? The picture's already on the internet."

"Kenny!" Kyle yelled, looking like he having trouble trying to decide whether to kill me or just to run.

"I'm joking, God," I snorted, pulling his camera out of my pocket. "No, I didn't tell anyone. Here's your camera back. You can delete the picture if you want to."

"And you won't tell anyone, right? I don't really mind that much. In fact it might be kind of easier if people knew. But Stan–"

"I know, I know," I rolled my eyes. "Mr. Popular football player jock has a reputation to uphold. I'm not going to tell anyone."

We hung out for a while longer after that, until it started to get dark and Kyle announced his mom would probably be looking for him. It was nice, now that I knew what was probably one of Kyle's biggest secrets. It was like there weren't any walls or anything, and we could just be ourselves.

I realized as I was walking home that it was one of the very few times I had actually hung out with Kyle just the two of us. Usually it was impossible to get him away from Stan, and Cartman tended to trail along most of the time. Though he had actually made some new friends now so he hadn't been hanging around with us as much. What he'd been doing, don't ask me. Probably a new plan for world domination or something.

But anyways, it was kind of nice to have just Kyle for a bit. He acted differently than when he was with Stan. And, I don't know, something between us just seemed to click. I had a feeling somehow that it wouldn't be the last time I would be able to see the real Kyle, the one that existed when Stan wasn't around.


	3. I Am Not Immune To Your Charms

_You, A Feeling I Can't Deny  
Chapter Three - I Am Not Immune To Your Charms_

A/N: I'm back, finally =) Which means I can start updating this fic again! And lucky you guys, while I was away I came up with like the whole rest of the plot so I actually already finished this story. I just have to type it up. It's a little shorter than I originally wanted, but I still like how it came out. I'm gonna be busy next few weeks, with lots of summer work and then school starting, but I'll try my best to finish this. On a related note, if you want to see any new fics from me at some point in the near future, please go vote in the poll on my profile!! =)

Reviews are always lovely.

* * *

On November 2nd I woke up to about a half-foot of snow covering the ground. I groaned at the prospect of having to trudge to school in it.

It snowed nonstop the whole way, of course. I knew it would keep snowing straight into April. Damn this town.

I finally arrived with just enough time to stop at my locker to ditch my scarf and ratty second-hand jacket before first period English. I tried to regain the feeling in my fingers as I entered the classroom and took my usual seat in front of Kyle. Stan sat next to him.

"Dude," Kyle started. I spun to face him. "Video game day Saturday. You in?"

I grinned. "Fuck yeah I am! Whose house?"

"Mine," Stan said. "Mom's going out tomorrow to buy all the essentials."

"Sweet. Cartman coming?"

"Far as I know, yeah. He told me he was."

The four of us like to take at least one Saturday a month and devote it to "Video game day." This is a day where we hole up inside one of our houses the whole entire day and do nothing but eat junk food and play video games. It's freaking epic.

"Oh my god, Kenny," Kyle said, his voice suddenly hushed. "Look. Powder's totally checking you out."

"What?" I turned to the opposite corner of the room. Sure enough, there she was, staring straight at me. As soon as our eyes connected, her widened, and she quickly turned to whisper frantically with two of her friends, Jessie and Mandy.

"I saw you talking to her a lot at the party. Did anything happen?" Kyle inquired.

Ah, yes, the party. "Not much," I replied in response to his question, though my eyes were still glued to Powder as I waited for her to inevitably look back my way. "Made out a bit."

Finally, she turned back to me. I grinned and raised one hand in a small wave. She blushed furiously, but returned my smile.

"She's cute," Kyle noted appraisingly as I finally turned back to him.

"Hey," Stan said, pretending to be jealous.

Kyle rolled his eyes, though smiled as well. "I meant for Kenny."

"Maybe I'll ask her out," I mused.

"Good," Kyle said sincerely. "You should."

The rest of the week went by in a blur of snow and Kyle. We had accumulated about three feet by Friday night when it finally stopped. Kyle and I wanted to go play some more basketball, but obviously the weather didn't permit it. Instead we stayed inside and watched some movies, just the two of us.

Do you know that feeling with that one person you just hit it off with immediately? And it's literally like there are sparks flying between the two of you? I know that sound so, so cliché, but the thing about clichés is that they're cliché because they're the truth. And it doesn't matter anyways because Kyle's with Stan and I'm not gay.

So before I knew it, it was Saturday. Video game day. I had never actually gotten around to asking Powder out, but that wasn't too high on my list of priorities.

Kyle and I sat on the floor in front of the couch in Stan's living room, Stan and Cartman behind us, perched on the sofa. Our eyes were glued to the violent fighting game we played. In between games, while we snacked on junk food of all sorts, Stan wove his fingers in and out of Kyle's flaming curls. For some reason this bothered me to no end.

We all watched as my character was blown to bits on the screen.

"Oh my god!" Stan screeched. "They've killed Kenny!"

"You bastards!" Kyle finished, shaking his fist at the television.

I sighed as my character finally regenerated on-screen. And who says video games aren't like real life? "Must you two do that every single time?"

Kyle grinned. "Yes. Yes we must."

Spark.

"That's it, Broflovski. You are _so_ dead. Where are you? I need to kill you now."

"You can't kill me, Kenny! We're on the same team!"

"Screw that," I growled, trying hard to keep from laughing. "You're going down."

Spark.

Kyle chuckled as my character finally approached his on the television. He tried to get away, but I had him trapped. Just as I was about to shoot him, I was blown to smithereens yet again. We both stared at the screen silently for a second before bursting out in uncontrollable laughter.

"What the fuck," I gasped. "Who did that?"

"Wasn't me," Stan replied gruffly.

"I'm not even anywhere near you bitches," Cartman added.

"Kenny – where did that even – come from?" Kyle managed as we both continued laughing.

Double spark.

"It's really not that funny," Stan said.

"Stan you should keep your ho on a leash," Cartman grumbled. "And a short one, at that."

Somehow this only proved to make the two of us laugh harder. Kyle fell over sideways, into me. He buried his face in my shoulder, clutching the sleeve of my shirt as we shook with continued laughter.

Quadruple quintuple spark times a billion.

Stan gave us a weird look before finally pausing the game. "I think now's a good time for another snack break," he decided.

Kyle and I slowly calmed down, taking deep breaths and occasionally snickering for a short while. We finally got our laughter under control.

"Oh geez," Kyle breathed, still grinning.

"Shit. We're almost out of food," I noted. The supply we had brought out from the huge pile on the kitchen table had dwindled to dangerously low levels.

"Come on, Kenny, let's go get some more." The two of us got to our feet before Kyle linked his arm around mine and more or less dragged me into the kitchen.

Do I even need to say it anymore?

"Hey, you wanna come over Wednesday?" Kyle asked as we began to grab food at random from the motherlode. "if it keeps up this whole not-snowing thing they'll plow the basketball court and as long as it's not too icy we could go play. Otherwise we could… I don't know. Do something else."

"Give each other makeovers?" I suggested.

Kyle grinned, his clear green eyes still sparkling from laughter. "You know it."

"Tempting as that sounds, I can't," I replied.

"Oh." His face fell. I immediately wanted to take it back, to give up all my obligations, if only it would make that sadness go away.

"I have to work," I rationalized. "Can we do a rain check?"

"Right, I keep forgetting you actually have a job," he said.

"Yeah, well, some of us actually need the money," I chuckled. He frowned again, looking away. Kyle had always felt a little uncomfortable about the financial standing of his family and his parents' need to buy him and his brother nice things, especially when he was talking to me. "Shit, dude, I didn't mean it like that."

"I know. " He smiled half-heartedly. "It's just… I know." He turned and walked away then, leaving me to follow him back into the living room.

"How's Tuesday, then?" I called after him.

"Thursday's better," he called back.

"Thursday it is."

"Jesus, what took you so fucking long?" Cartman demanded, snatching a bag out of the armful that I carried.

Stan gave us another weird look. He'd been doing that a lot lately. "What's on Thursday?" he asked Kyle.

"Kenny's coming over," he replied, ditching all the food he carried.

"I thought we were hanging out Thursday."

"No, we're hanging out _Tuesday_. Which is why I told Kenny Thursday. God, you're forgetful."

"But you love me anyways," Stan teased. "Besides, that's why I need you around. To remind me of things."

"Mm, like the fact tat our four-month is in two weeks, and you promised to take me out?" Kyle smiled softly.

"Come on, Ky. Give me some credit. I'm not _that_ bad of a boyfriend," Stan grumbled. He reached out, hooking his fingers around the belt loops of Kyle's jeans, dragging him forward.

"That's your opinion," Kyle whispered, closing the space between their lips.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to say something, do something, anything that would make them stop. Instead I turned away and ignored it like them making out right fucking there didn't bother me in the slightest.

God, I miss how it was before. Before Stan and Kyle decided to date. Before I started having these whatever weird freaking feelings for Kyle. Before the sparks, before all the happiness I feel when I'm around him, more than I've ever felt. Before the rage I now feel whenever he's with Stan.

"Fags," Cartman grunted.

I never, ever thought I would say this, but thank god for Cartman. Holy crap, he got them to stop. I mean, sure, he's an asshole, and that comment was incredibly rude and unnecessary, but Stan and Kyle had separated in order to glare at him. I felt obligated to join them as each of us said some variation of "Shut the fuck up, fatass," but at the same time I was so, so relieved.

"I'm just stating a fact, no need to get your panties in a bunch," Cartman defended.

Kyle steamed. He was getting mad the way only Cartman could make him. "You know what, fatass, I am so sick–"

"No, _you_ know what, Kahl? Screw you!" Cartman sneered. "Screw all of you. Jew, hippie, po' boy… screw you gahs, I'm going home." Exit Cartman, stage left.

"Jesus, what's his problem?" Stan muttered as we stared at the door Cartman had just slammed.

Somehow, I knew why Cartman had gotten upset and left. I knew he could feel it, just like I could. The dynamics in our happy group of four were about to change drastically, and not necessarily for the better. Stan and Kyle had kicked it into motion the moment they decided that they needed to act on their deeper feelings, and now it was travelling so fast it couldn't be stopped. I suspected that, in the long run, it would end up destroying us all.

* * *

A/N: The Cartman thing is actually pretty important, but not till later. Stay tuned for Kenny's disastrous date with Powder! =)

Ah, I feel like some thanks is in order at the moment. First of all, for the part where Kenny is talking about cliches, I need to thank one of my friends because I always complain to him about using cliches in my writing. I HATE cliches. So much. But he always says that to me, how cliches are like that because they're the truth, and I think he's sort of right so now I don't get so upset when I use them anymore =) As long as it's not excessive. But the sparks thing is a pretty major theme in this fic between Kenny and Kyle.  
Also, I need to thank my other friend, DJ (aka SpazzKitty) which I should've done by now o_o You guys should be thankful to her too because if it wasn't for her this story wouldn't exist beyond the first chapter, and therefore wouldn't have been posted. Even though I changed the story almost completely from her initial suggestions, she gave me the inspiration to get the plot to the point that it is. So thank youuuu =) Oh and she writes awesome Axis Powers Hetalia fics so if you like that you should check her out. She's a great writer.


	4. Your Love Is Such A Tease

_You, A Feeling I Can't Deny  
Chapter Four - Your Love Is Such A Tease_

A/N: Eh. Not much to say about this one. Just something I keep meaning to say but am forgetting, I don't always reread after I type them up so if you find any typos it would be awesome if you informed me so I could fix them. Oh and also, Kenny has his license, he just doesn't have a car. That's why he walks or mooches rides everywhere. Enjoy, reviews are lovely.

* * *

Tuesday morning I finally decided to make my move. I caught her at the end of English, the only class we had together.

"Hey, Powder," I said, smiling as I blocked her path to the door. "I was thinking… would you want to go out for coffee after school today?"

"Really?" she squealed. Her excitement was adorable, as well as the embarrassment and colored cheeks that followed. "U-um, I mean, yeah. Yeah, that would be great."

I grinned and informed her I would meet her at her locker after school. She ran away happily, presumably to go tell her friends. Stan and Kyle waited for me just outside the classroom.

"What was that?" Kyle wanted to know.

"Oh, me and Powder are going out for coffee after school," I replied lightly.

Kyle grinned. "Nice. Good for you, man."

Stan murmured something that sounded like an agreement to Kyle's statement. I couldn't help but notice he looked awfully relieved about something.

Cartman didn't show up for lunch, which was very unlike him. When I asked him in Math class where he had been, he informed me simply that he had "things to do." I didn't push it.

"What do you want?" I asked Powder as we waited in line in Harbucks, studying the menu boards. I pulled out my wallet.

"Oh, no, I can pay!" she protested. "Really, it's completely fine."

"What, you really think I'm such a jerk I'd take a girl out and _not_ pay? I'm not that poor." And it's true, I'm not. At least not now that I have a job. All my paychecks go straight into my miniscule college fund, but I'm always super nice to people, which gets me good tips. And tips equal spending money.

"Are you sure? Because, really, I can–"

"I'm sure," I promised her with a smile. It was finally our turn to order, and I paid for both of our drinks. We made our way to an empty table and sat.

"It was really nice of you to ask me out," she said. "That doesn't happen a lot for me."

"Really? I don't see why not."

She laughed. "Well, clearly I'm not Bebe Stevens."

Bebe had a reputation of being one of the hottest, as well as one of the sluttiest, girls in our school. If all the stories about her were true, then _damn_ that girl got around.

"Bebe's a bitch. Besides, you're way prettier than her." It was true, really. While Powder was less curvy, she had that whole petite thing going on for her. Her long auburn hair was more wavy than curly, and her eyes were the wrong color, deep inky blue instead of green –

ABORT ABORT EJECT THOSE THOUGHTS FROM YOUR HEAD RIGHT NOW KENNETH MCCORMICK.

I should not be thinking about Kyle's amazing eyes or sexy curls while on a date. With a girl. Hell, I shouldn't be thinking of any part of Kyle being amazing or sexy, at all ever.

"Kenny?" came Powder's voice, as though from a great distance. "Hey, are you okay?"

I snapped back to reality at an alarming rate. "Hm?"

She smiled tentatively. "I lost you for a minute there."

"Sorry… ah, what were you saying?"

We talked for a long time, about everything and anything. School, music, our families, whatever. We even played a short game of Would You Rather. By the time we finally left, it was snowing again. Freaking wonderful. I had originally planned to walk, but gladly accepted when she offered me a ride.

"This was fun," Powder told me earnestly as we sat parked outside my house, warm air blasting out the heater.

"It was," I agreed with a grin.

"Now I just keep wondering where your mind keeps drifting off a million miles away to," she mused softly.

It's not drifting that much. And not that far, either. Only a few miles. To Kyle. Who I just remembered is with Stan right now. That bastard. I wonder what they're doing. …On second thought, I'd rather not know.

"Like that," Powder pointed out, laughing nervously.

"Sorry," I apologized yet again. "I guess I'm just… easily distracted. But I really did have fun."

I smiled and started to lean towards her a bit, then stopped.

"Is this okay?" I wanted to know. She nodded.

And then we both leaned forward, and we were kissing. Just like that. And it was so nice, and her lips were so soft, and she didn't cover them with all sorts of nasty, gooey lip gloss like some girls do, just a thin layer of chap stick. She parted her lips against mine and her mouth tasted like peppermint.

We separated for breath then, still close enough that our lips were practically touching. I heard the heavy breathing, felt the curls beneath my hand, saw the red out of eyes open no more than a slit. That was all it took. My mind was gone again.

"Kyle…" I moaned softly, my voice heavy with want. His name felt right on my tongue, so right, like that was where it belonged.

It had been barely audible, but loud enough. She heard. She pulled away quickly, staring at me with wide eyes that weren't green, and all I could think was _Oh, shit_. Because I knew how badly I had fucked up.

And right then, it was over. There would be no more kissing. No second date. Hell, we probably wouldn't even talk to each other after this.

"I should probably get going," she said quietly, not looking at me. I didn't blame her. I wouldn't be able to look at me, either.

"Right. See you around." I got out of her car and began walking towards my house.

"Kenny?" she called, the window now open. I turned. "Thank you. And… I hope everything works out for you."

I smiled a bit sadly and waved goodbye. Powder was too fucking nice for her own good. All I could do was pray that she wouldn't tell anyone.

First period English the next day was an amazingly fun experience! And I desperately hope you are someone who understands sarcasm enough to know that by that statement I mean that first period English was worse than Hell. Trust me. I would know.

Powder and I did that whole awkward thing where we stare at each other a lot, but never at same time, and always pretend not to notice when the other is staring. That went on pretty much the whole class.

Kyle, of course, knew something was up the moment I walked through the door. "Bad date?" he asked sympathetically.

"You have no idea," I muttered, before turning to face forward and slouching over my desk. He could tell I didn't want to talk about it, and I was thankful he left me alone after that.

But, really, he did have no idea. The chance that he actually guessed why last night had sucked so hard was too small to even mention. It kind of made me wonder, though. Like, what he would do if he did know. I tried not to think about this too much, because the answer I realized I hoped for kind of terrified me.

Once I saw, out of my peripheral vision, Powder glance first at me and then at Kyle before heaving a sigh and turning away.

I could feel Kyle sitting just behind me with every fiber of my body. It was like my senses were hyper-aware. I could tell every time he dotted an i or punctuated a sentence of the notes he was taking. I could feel him fidget in his chair every now and then. I knew every time he was about to initiate a short, whispered conversation with super best friend slash boyfriend slash soul mate for life Stan.

I'm not jealous. I'm not. You think I'm jealous? I am not fucking jealous.

Something in me was changing. Or, rather, something in me had already changed, and I was just acknowledging it now. I had been in denial. I still was, or at least I wanted to be.

I am not gay. I am not jealous of Stan. I do not like Kyle as anything more than a friend.

I wanted so much for all these things to be true. Maybe if I kept saying them, they would be. But I kept remembering the previous night, and his name, and how desperate my voice had sounded. I didn't want to feel all these things. Not for him. Not for Kyle. It was too much for me to handle right now. Or ever, for that matter.

Cartman showed up for lunch, at least, but refused to say a word to anyone. Not even when Kyle started making fun of his fatness and his mom in an attempt to get a rise out of him. It was so entirely out-of-character I didn't even know what to do.

After school I saw Stan and the fatass himself having a conversation it looked like Stan didn't want anyone to hear. Suspicious, Mr. Marsh, very suspicious.

Work pretty much sucked. We had a grand total of two customers. Me and co-worker Clyde Donovan sat at one of the tables we were supposed to be waiting as he produced a deck of cards and we played a rousing game of Egyptian Rat Screw, which I kept losing because obviously my mind was focused somewhere else entirely.

* * *

A/N: I don't really like where this ended but if I had included the next scene it would've been way too long. And if I cut it off after Kenny's date with Powder it would've been way too short. So yeah.  
Haha Clyde. I usually use Craig when I need a random guy character (cause I love him x3) but he already got to be in this story once (the Halloween party was at his house, in case you forgot). So I figured I'd give Clyde a turn. Clyde and Kenny are screwing. That amuses me to no end. If you'd like to know the rules to the game of Egyptian Rat Screw then message me and I'll send them to you.  
The K-squared is pretty imminent at this point. It starts very gradually in the next chapter.


	5. I Remained Unrecognized In My Hometown

_You, A Feeling I Can't Deny  
Chapter Five - I Remained Unrecognized In My Hometown_

A/N: Just a quick reminder: Poll. On my profile. Go vote.  
And review because no one's been reviewing and that makes me a sad panda. And it makes me not want to update because I think no one's reading this except for one person. Who is the only one who's been reviewing. So thank you my lone reviewer although it's not really enough at the moment to make me want to keep updating if no one else is reading... =/

* * *

"So, you never did tell me what happened on your date with Powder the other night, " Kyle announced casually on Thursday night. We were in his room, trying to concentrate long enough to get some homework done. He spun lazily in his desk chair; I lay on my stomach, sprawled across the carpet.

Ugh. I knew that was coming. I considered for a very brief moment telling him the truth, but knew it would make my life a hell of a lot easier to lie.

"Oh, you know," I started, sighing and rolling onto my back. I rubbed a hand violently through my messy blonde hair. "It wasn't so bad, I guess… Some people just don't click, hm?"

"Yeah, I get that. But when you find the right person, and you get that whole sparks thing… It's great." He smiled reassuringly. God, that smile. "It'll happen, Kenny. Don't worry."

Or maybe it's already happened, just with the wrong person. "Is it like that for you and Stan?" I asked instead.

"I guess, yeah. Just, like, we've known each other inside and out for longer than I can remember, I don't know exactly when it started. All I know is that one day, something was different. I had started looking at him in a different way. Maybe the sparks were always there, and I just didn't notice. Or maybe something triggered them. I don't know."

My mouth spoke my next words without my brain giving it permission to. "Do you love him?"

"Yes." There wasn't even a moment's hesitation. "I mean, he's got flaws, as does our relationship. But we're only human. I'm sure I drive him crazy with things all the time, not to mention how he's so stubborn and has a constant need to check out girls right fucking in front of me, but–"

"Girls?" I interrupted. "But isn't he… gay?" For some reason it felt so strange to actually say the word that had been bouncing around my head so much recently.

"No," Kyle replied simply, giving me a quizzical look.

"But… he's a guy. And you're a guy. And you're dating. So doesn't that make him gay?"

Kyle laughed then, as though I was being utterly ridiculous. "Kenny, Stan's bi. If anything. He still likes girls. Always has, probably always will. Who knows, maybe I'm the only boy he'll ever really like."

Bisexual…? I had forgotten that was even a possibility. It make sense, though. For him. I guess. I mean, he dated Wendy for fucking ever, and a ton of other girls after. He seemed to genuinely like all of them, too.

Maybe that's what I am. Bi. Due to recent events I've obviously begun to doubt my own sexuality quite a bit. Remembering that it doesn't have to be set in stone either way is a bit of a relief.

"Are you bi too, then?" I wanted to know.

"I don't really know yet," he replied slowly. "I'm still figuring it out. But I don't really see why there has to be a specific label for everything. People like who they like." He laughed suddenly. "I used to think that I was Stan-sexual. But recently… I don't think that's so much the case anymore."

"Why do you say that?"

He spun his chair so that he faced away from me then, but not fast enough that I didn't catch the slight flush that had formed on his face. I waited, shifting so that I stared up at the ceiling, but he never answered my question.

"It was an accident, you know," he said quietly, breaking the long silence that had formed. He still didn't turn. "Me and Stan. It was an accident."

I waited, because I knew he was going to tell the story whether I said anything or not. I didn't really want to hear it, but he seemed like he wanted to tell the story. Besides, you know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat.

"This was after I had realized that I had liked him for a while. But I was never planning on doing anything about it," Kyle started again at last. "We were going somewhere. I don't remember where. It's not important. We were running late, I think. He was kind of dragging me along after him, trying to get me to hurry up. I tripped, and fell into him. We both went down. I ended up on top, our chests pressed together, and we just kind of stared at each other for a minute. There was something there, I don't know how to explain it… But then, before I even knew what I was doing, my lips were on his. He pushed me off of him and ran.

"He wouldn't talk to me for ages after that. I'm sure you remember that part, at least?"

Of course. The Stan and Kyle Ice Age. How could I forget? I kept track of that, you know. It was eighteen days. The longest time they'd ever gone without talking. Neither of them would tell us what had happened. Then all of a sudden, it was fixed. They were best of friends again. Just like that.

"I thought I'd fucked our friendship up beyond repair. I was so scared that he would never talk to me again. But one day he just showed up at my house. He looked tired – defeated, almost. But he looked at me and he just said, 'Kyle,' and the way he said it, I knew exactly why he was there. And… well, I guess you pretty much know the rest."

I was glad he was done because I don't know if I could've taken listening to that anymore. All I could think was if I ever had a long-term girlfriend – the possibility of boyfriend was still sort of freaking me out – I wanted to be able to tell an amazing story about how we got together like that.

I'm not jealous. I swear. I'm not fucking jealous.

I left Kyle's house shortly after that. It was getting late, and we came to realize we were getting absolutely no work done so long as we were together.

Stan found me the next morning before school started. "Hey, Kenny, can I talk to you for a sec?"

I slammed my locker shut and clicked the lock closed. "Sure, what's up?"

He frowned, not seeming to know how to start. "You've been spending a lot of time with Kyle lately…" he trailed off.

"And?" I prompted.

"And I-I… I don't like it." He took a deep breath, but didn't look away, cobalt eyes boring into me.

I gave a startled laugh. "Stan, are you trying to tell me to back off your man?"

"I – yeah, I guess I am."

I blinked. I didn't really know what to say in this situation. Suddenly serious, I felt an overwhelming need to stick up for myself. "Stan, no. I'm not going to stay away from Kyle. Unless he wants me to."

He sighed, looking away at last. "Dammit," he muttered, "I was afraid you were going to say that."

"Why are you doing this, anyways? Worried he's found a new favorite?" I snorted at the utter ridiculousness of this statement.

Stan sighed again. He looked really troubled about this whole thing.

"Dude. He's not going to. He loves you. _You_. He told me so himself. Besides, you can see in his eyes when he looks at you how much he cares for you." Allowing these words to come out of my mouth was a feeling similar to chewing on thumbtacks. But at least it seemed to help Stan a little.

"Really? He said that?"

I nodded.

Goddamn it would he stop it with the sighing? It was getting really annoying. "I just… I don't know, Kenny. I love him, too. So much. I don't want to risk losing him."

"Kyle wouldn't do anything like that," I said slowly, to let it sink in. "Don't you trust him?"

"Yeah. Of course. But…"

"But you don't trust me," I finished flatly. He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "No, I get it, you don't have to say it. I just think you should have more faith in your friends, dude. Seriously, don't worry. I'll be on my best behavior." I grinned.

Fortunately, just then the bell rang, alerting us that we were both late for English.


	6. I'd Be Your Anything

_You, A Feeling I Can't Deny  
Chapter Six - I'd Be Your Anything_

A/N: Thanks for the reviews last time, guys =) Keep 'em coming.  
Warning: Major fluff alert ahead. I really like this chapter. K2 technically starts.  
I do not own Romeo and Juliet or William Shakespeare.

* * *

Things mostly went back to normal after my talk with Stan. Well, as normal as they can get when you're living in South Park, Colorado; one of your best friends is a sadistic asshole; and the other two are dating, one of whom you have recently developed much more than platonic feelings for. Yep, that sounds normal to me.

Speaking of Cartman, and of things returning to normal, fatass had been acting much more like his usual self as of late. He constantly had that look on his face that he got whenever he was plotting something. I didn't even bother asking. I knew if he wanted us to know, he would tell us.

And thus, November came and went. December arrived, beginning somewhat pleasantly as Christmas break loomed just out of grasp. The days were shorter and colder. It was practically already dark by the time we got out of school in the afternoons. But still, the beginning of the month was okay.

One day, Kyle and I both had free period, which we ditched to go on a much-needed Harbucks run. The combination of hot liquid and caffeine was pure bliss in a cup. We had arrived back at school with time to spare, and stood leaning against the wall just outside the door back in. We were outside because Kyle was being paranoid and didn't want to get caught skipping class. It had already been snowing for a few hours. I can't remember the last time I saw blue sky.

Our breath was as visible as the steam from our cups. Kyle held his with both hands. He wore light grey fingerless gloves and I couldn't even imagine how cold his hands must be. I also couldn't help but notice one of Stan's favorite scarves was wrapped around his neck.

"Stan's been talking about coming out at school," Kyle was saying. Why did it seem like the only thing we ever talked about was Stan?

"No shit?" I asked. Kyle had been saying from day one that he wanted to come out at school, but Stan was stubborn. Unlike the rest of us, he was a football player, and well-liked among our classmates. He actually had a reputation to protect. Kyle, Cartman, and I never really gave a shit about what anyone thought of us, but Stan had always cared. Too much, in my opinion.

"Yeah. I even reminded him of everything that's at stake for him. I just… I don't know. I don't think he's ready yet. He told me that he is now, but I still don't think he'd be able to handle the stress that would come down on us afterwards."

"So you tell him that, too?"

"Yep. He says he wants to do it anyways. I don't really think that he would change his mind all of a sudden, though… I feel like there's something else." Kyle frowned, lost in thought.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" I asked, confused.

"I kind of get the feeling that he's trying to keep me happy by giving me something he knows I want. But I don't get why. I mean, he knows that I want him, that I want to be with him. So why is he willing to give up so much all of a sudden – for me?"

"Maybe he just wants to do something nice for you," I replied uneasily, my thoughts flashing back to my previous conversation with Stan. "You know, early Hanukkah present or something."

"Maybe," Kyle repeated slowly. "He's been doing it a lot lately, though. Not just with that. With everything. Smothering me almost. It's sort of suspicious, you know?"

"I guess," I mumbled, hoping he would drop it. Thankfully, he did.

"Whatever. I think my hands are going to legit fall off. Bell's going to ring soon anyways. Let's go inside."

I nodded and followed him into the warmth of the building. We ditched our now-empty cups into a trash bin conveniently located just inside the door. I took my gloves off and stuffed them into the pocket of my jacket. He left his on.

"Dude, your fingers are blue," I pointed out. He groaned.

"They're so fucking cold! I can't even feel them."

"In hindsight it was probably a stupid choice to go with the fingerless, hm?" I teased. Seriously, though, who in their right mind wears fingerless gloves in the middle of a Colorado winter? Kyle should know better than that.

He pouted. "But I like them." Well, then. Can't argue with _that_ logic.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Give them," I said, reaching for his hands. "At least my hands are warm."

He obediently held his hands out. I pressed them together, holding both of his in both of mine. A blush had spread on both our faces that I don't think was from the cold.

"There," I murmured after a few minutes, when his hands didn't feel so much like twin blocks of ice anymore. "Better?"

"Yeah," he said, just as softly, "Thanks." We stared at our hands but neither of us moved to take them away.

After a few more minutes of this, I dropped one of his hands, bringing the other closer to my face. He didn't question what I was doing, just watched on in silent curiosity. I examined the back of his hand. It was a nice hand, I decided. His fingers, still slightly discolored from the cold, were long and thin. Delicate-looking. His fingernails were short and chewed-upon, a nervous habit of his I had noticed often.

I flipped it over so it lay palm up atop my own. His palm was still covered by the grey knit glove. They were pretty cool-looking, I had to admit. I lightly trailed my pointer finger along the underneath of his middle finger. It curled slightly at my touch.

I turned his hand one last time so that our rested palm to palm. I had a vague memory of freshman year, studying Romeo and Juliet. One of the few times I was paying attention. The scene where Romeo was trying to get Juliet to kiss him and they were talking about how hands are like lips.

_And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss_.

I slid my fingers to one side and curled them downwards and then we were holding hands. Just like that.

He was smiling. I'm not really sure but I think I was, too. I liked the look of it, our hands together there, fingers interlocked. I wanted to ask him if he had his camera so that we could take a picture of it, and I could remember how it looked forever. But I think at that point words would have broken the spell.

I gave a slight squeeze and his smile grew wider and he squeezed back. Then, just as the bell rang, I regretfully slid my hand out of his and walked away without a word. He didn't call after me. He knew I'd be back and there would be time for words later. He knew I would keep coming back until he made it clear that he didn't want me to.

There was something acknowledged there, seeing our hands clasped together. When I squeezed and he returned it. I'm sure at that point he realized how much I wanted him. But I understood something through that as well. He wanted me, too. Maybe not as much as he wanted Stan, but my feelings definitely weren't unrequited ones. But this was why we knew we couldn't do anything more than hold hands. He wasn't ready to give Stan up just yet. It was enough. For now.

Nonetheless, Kyle and I hung out almost every single day after that.

"Today, after school, right?" he would always ask at lunch.

I rolled my eyes. "Do you even need to ask anymore?"

"Just checking," he replied defensively.

"Jesus, Kenny, you've been seeing more of my boyfriend lately than I have. Makes a guy wonder," Stan sad. His tone was light and joking, but there was a warning flash in his eyes that he made sure I picked up on.

I didn't even bother trying to deny it anymore, because I knew it was true. Stan and Kyle were drifting and it was all my fault.

"You're still my favorite," Kyle promised Stan. "But that doesn't mean Kenny and I can't be friends." I didn't miss the emphasis he put on the word _friends_.

"I know," Stan said. "I just feel like I never see you anymore."

"That's not true. You should stop worrying so much." Kyle leaned forward as if he would kiss Stan, but seemed to remember where they were and stopped himself.

"It's okay, you can do it," Stan urged. "I told you, I don't care anymore."

Cartman, who previously had been too busy stuffing his face with food to take part in the conversation, decided to pipe up. "Half the school already thinks you're fags, there's no need to broadcast it."

"I just don't think it's a good idea yet," Kyle said, ignoring Cartman.

"You make no sense. You want to come out, I tell you I'm not ready. I tell you I'm ready, you tell me you want to wait." Stan sounded frustrated, like this was a quarrel that they had already gone through countless times. He shot me another glare, as if their fighting was somehow my fault, too.

"I just want to make sure you're ready," Kyle defended. "There's so much at stake for you. I don't want to be the one to screw it all up." His hand found mine under the table, lightly brushing against it. I reached out and bumped mine against his, and he curled his pointer finger around my pinkie.

We had been doing that a bit lately, with the hands. Ever since that first day. We hardly ever did it around the others though, god forbid one of them should actually notice. Only when we needed to. I guessed Kyle needed to right now because he and Stan were fighting and it made him sad. Sometimes it was nice to know that there was someone else there.

We had never once talked about the hand-holding, or what it meant. I think we were putting it off for as long as possible. We were careful, though. We never touched each other, other than that. And even that we didn't do too much.

I tuned back into the argument just in time to hear Stan inform Kyle that he needed to make up his fucking mind before getting up and stalking out of the cafeteria. Kyle removed his hand from mine to rest both his elbows on the table, burying his face in his palms.

"He'll come around," I promised gently. "He's probably just frustrated right now. Maybe you're underestimating it. Maybe he is ready."

"No," Kyle mumbled. "No fucking way. If anything, that little display only further proved my point. He's not ready."

"Stan's too much of an emo pussy to handle something like that," Cartman added. I gave him a weird look.

"Why are you on Kyle's side for all of this? More importantly, why do you care at all?"

"Because maybe I don't want it known around school that I hang out with a bunch of fags!" he said, in a rather loud and defensive manner. His face grew slightly red.

My eyes narrowed. Somehow I was having trouble believing that was the only reason, but I couldn't for the life of me think of any other things that would drive Cartman to want Stan and Kyle to keep their relationship secret.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter is the one some of you have been waiting for... you finally get to find out what's going on with Cartman! So hang in there and you'll be rewarded with some more Kenny and Kyle fluffiness. Haha.  
Please review~


	7. All The Pain That You Hide From Me Every

_You, A Feeling I Can't Deny  
Chapter Seven - All The Pain That You Hide From Me Every Day_

A/N: Wow, I haven't updated this in a while. I was mad busy trying to finish last minute summer work before school started (which was today, btw). Well now that school has started I dunno how busy I'll be but I want to finish posting this story so that I can get started on my next fic.  
About the next fic, just a reminder, my poll on my profile is still open! I doubt anyone else is gonna vote still... seems like you guys don't care about what I write, as long as it's something ;D That's fine by me, I guess. I just thought maybe you'd like a bit more say. Anyways, I'll probably close the poll on... let's say Friday? I should be done posting this by then (there are like two chapters left or so) and then I can get started on whatever the winning fic is.

Uhh brief warning ahead for violence/semi-descriptive gore? It's not too bad, I swear. Honestly, how many of you saw this coming? =)

* * *

We had nearly a week of unusually warm weather then. And by unusually warm, I mean a few degrees above freezing. But at least it didn't snow for the longest time yet that winter, long enough that someone even took it upon themselves to plow the basketball court. I swear, leave it to Park County High to be the one high school that doesn't leave its nice, warm, indoor basketball court open to student use. Anyways, Kyle and I actually hadn't made plans to hang out that day (I know, I'm shocked too) but I figured if I hung out down there long enough he would show up eventually.

I practiced threes while I waited, trying to warm up my chilled limbs. My winter coat was worn so much that there were actually holes in some parts, and it didn't do much to keep me warm. I was concentrating intensely on my game, the outside world shut off from me, which is probably why I didn't hear him approach.

The ball had just released from my fingers when there was a hard shove, the hand pressing right into the small of my back. Surprised, I lost my balance, falling to my knees. I could feel the skin of my knees tear through my already ripped jeans. I started to get back to my feet, trying to turn to see who had pushed me, before an immense weight crushed my back, forcing me to fall to lie on my stomach on the frozen asphalt. The air exited my lungs with a soft _whoosh_.

I tried to move, to do anything. My arms were both pinned to my sides by what seemed to be a large pair of sneakers. The rest of my body was pinned down by this immense crushing weight, almost like someone was sitting on me. My legs flailed ineffectually, colliding slightly with soft flesh but not hard enough to do any damage. I was stuck.

Fingers harshly grabbed my hair, unkindly yanking my head back in a way that my neck was definitely not supposed to bend. I gave a sharp intake of breath as I heard the bones pop.

"You think that hurts, you ain't seen nothing yet, you poor piece of shit," growled a sickeningly familiar voice, laden with hostility. It was a tone I recognized well, though rarely was it directed at me.

"Cartman, what the fuck are you doing," I managed to get out, gasping for breath. My lungs simply refused to fill.

"Teaching you a lesson," came the response. I could hear the sneer in his voice.

And then came the real pain. My face was slammed hard into the pavement – and when I say hard, I do mean _hard_. I cried out involuntarily, but not loud enough that I didn't hear a second crack, this time from my nose. Yeah, like that hadn't been broken before. Next time I died – which I suspected would be at some point in the very near future – it would come back as good as new.

However, this doesn't change the simple fact that I'm terrified of pain. In fact, it's one of the only things I actually am afraid of anymore. Dying a lot will do that to a person. Unfortunately, it seems to have the opposite affect with pain. One of the only good things about dying is that while the pain is always excruciating, it's also always brief. Once I die it's gone. I don't have to deal with it anymore. But even just the prospect of a paper cut or a skinned knee freaks me out.

This is one of those things that not very many people know about me. I don't want them to think that I'm weak because of it. Unfortunately for me, pretty much the only people that do know are my three best friends, though they tired of teasing me for it a long while ago. Cartman, however, never forgets a person's weaknesses, and he seemed to enjoy using mine against me as he forced my head to the side and ground the right half of my face into the asphalt. He seemed to enjoy my screams.

I began feeling slightly dizzy, my vision going spotty. But I forced myself to listen as he talked, one of his meaty hands crushing my head to where it lay. "It's okay for Stan and Kahl if they want to go be fags. I don't care about them," Cartman started. "But not you, Kenneh. I care about you. And that's why this little boy-crush you seem to have on the Jew is simply not acceptable."

My head was yanked back again. My face was wet and sticky with blood. There were several red streaks on the pavement.

His voice was right in my ear then, and he almost sounded sincere. But we all know how good of an actor Cartman can be when he wants to. "You're my best friend, Kenny. I'm looking out for you. You'll thank me for this one day."

Somehow I highly doubted this, though it was hard to think when the dull throb in my head was slowly increasing into a brain-melting ache. My face was slammed back into the pavement again, causing my vision to momentarily go black. I don't think I even screamed that time – or maybe I was just too out of it to tell anymore. I found myself praying he would just kill me and get it over with, but somehow I suspected that wasn't part of the plan. He wanted to leave me with the memory of scabs on my face for weeks to come, unless I died by some other means before they fully healed.

"Consider this a warning," and now his voice was little more than a soft hum from very far away, "You better fucking stay away from Kyle, or there will be a lot more where this came from."

The weight – his body – was removed. I immediately sucked in a deep lungful of oxygen, an action that made my whole body sore. I didn't think I could ever move again.

My body decided to disprove this as a foot collided forcefully with my ribs. I yelped, a purely animal sound I didn't know I even had the ability to make, and instinctively curled into a defensive ball on my side, shaking uncontrollably.

"Fucking pussy," he muttered, voice heavy with disgust. And then I actually saw him for the first time as he walked away. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to have to deal with him, or the rest of the world. But the pain was still there. That was something I couldn't just block out. It coursed through my entire body, feeling as though my veins were full of magma.

I'm not entirely sure how long I lay there, unmoving. It could've been minutes, could've been hours. Time had stopped. My thoughts had stopped. There was nothing but darkness and pain.

"Kenny?" asked a voice, coming from miles away. It was the voice of my angel, my savior. But I dazedly realized I wasn't dead, not this time, because it still hurt so bad.

I tried to call out to him, but my voice wasn't working. I kept my eyes shut, unable to move a single muscle.

"Oh my god, Kenny! What happened?" The voice was clearer now, as were my thoughts. A hand touched my shoulder. I automatically flinched away, somehow realizing that the strange whimpering sound filling the air was coming from me.

"Kyle," I managed, my voice very small.

"Yeah, Kenny, it's me. I'm here. It's okay. You're okay." His voice was soothing, but at the same time he sounded as though he didn't believe his own words. He touched me again, tentatively this time, smoothing my hair. This time I didn't flinch.

"Kyle, make it go away," I begged, my mouth completely disconnected from my brain, which was still having trouble functioning. "It hurts. Make it go away."

"I will, okay? But you have to get up. You have to come with me."

I opened my eyes then, and there he was, kneeling next to me. He truly did look like an angel, his expression worried and scared and positively heartbroken. I felt very small staring up at him then.

"Come on, get up," he urged gently. I sat up a bit too quickly, and had to place a hand on the ground to keep from falling over as the earth tipped sideways. He took my arm, helping me to my feet as I tried to fend off the dizziness. I was shaking all over. He reached out with his free hand to wipe something wet from my cheek. I expected his finger to come away red with blood, but instead it was clear. That's strange. I didn't even know I had been crying. I never cry.

"Who did this?" he demanded suddenly.

"Fatass," I managed to say. I tried to make my tone angry and failed miserably at this attempt.

"Cartman?" he asked, looking somewhat surprised. I nodded. "Why would he–"

A new rush of dizziness made me stumble slightly, bending just the wrong way against the sore spot in my ribs, causing me to wince and groan softly. Kyle frowned, biting his lip.

"I should get you to a hospital. Your face is pretty fucked-up. Not to mention your nose…"

"No," I mumbled. "I hate hospitals. Please, I'll be fine. Really. It's… not so bad."

He sighed. "Obviously you haven't looked in a mirror," he muttered lightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips. It was sad and forced. "Fine. I'll take you back to my house and we'll get you cleaned up."

As it turns out, Kyle, of course, was right. On the way to his house, his arm securely around me to make sure I didn't fall over, I caught my reflection in a few windows we passed. The right side of my face was almost completely covered in dried blood. My nose wasn't too bad, really – bent at a slightly awkward angle – and my lip had split in at least three different places. I didn't recognize the monstrosity staring back at me. Was this what it looked like to the others every time I died?

Once at Kyle's house, he sat me on the couch and told me to stay there. He was immediately busy, disappearing into the kitchen to fetch a washcloth and some water. He gently dabbed at my face, cleaning it of dried blood. A few of the cuts opened again in the process, but none too bad.

He disappeared again, this time coming back with a substance that stung like hell when he put it on my wounds. I gasped a sharp intake of breath every time, and his face was covered in a wave of pity.

"Anywhere else?" he asked. I showed him my knees, though they were the least of my concern at the moment. They were hardly skinned. He put the stinging stuff on those as well, for good measure I suppose. "That it?"

Not that he could do anything about it, but I figured I might as well show him my final injury. I lifted my shirt to reveal the side of my ribs where the soreness was almost too much to bear. He grimaced when he saw it. I bent my head to look as well. There was a large, angry mark, deep purple in color and roughly the size of a baseball. Well, that would explain why it hurt so much…

His brow creased. He disappeared a third time, coming back to hand me two little pills and a glass of water. "Take these, they'll help," he instructed. I did as he said.

Finally, he collapsed on the couch next to me, sighing heavily and pressing his hand over his eyes. I reached out towards him, but remembering Cartman's words let my hand drop to my lap.

"I should go," I said quietly, standing up. "Thank you."

"No, Kenny, wait." He grabbed my hand, tugging lightly. I let him guide me back onto the couch, sitting closer to him than I had been before. "You never told me what actually happened."

He hadn't let go of my hand. It was somehow different than it had been. There seemed to be the expectance of something more. It was a moment we had put off for as long as possible, and why it chose now of all times to surface, I will never know. Even so, it scared me.

I uncertainly began the story, telling him the major details but leaving out most of the actual important facts. I told him how I had just been shooting hoops and Cartman jumped me. I didn't tell him about what Cartman had said, and why it made being around Kyle worrisome for me right now.

"That bastard," Kyle growled once I had finished. "And he didn't even give you a reason?"

"No," I lied softly, looking away.

Kyle had murder in his eyes, electric green blazing with fury. "I swear, when I see that son of a bitch–"

"Don't," I begged. "Please, Kyle, don't do anything to Cartman."

"But–"

"_Please_."

He sighed, frowning. "Fine. But I'm still pissed. And he deserves it."

"I know he does, but… just don't, okay? For me."

His expression softened, turning back into that heartbroken look he had had before. He moved his hand, the one that wasn't still wrapped around my own, to my face, gently trailing his fingers along my left jawbone. "I just can't stand seeing you hurt like this," he murmured. His fingers felt nice. I pressed my face into his hand slightly and he gave a small, sad smile.

And then he leaned very, very close. I froze, not even breathing as I silently panicked. I thought he was going to kiss me on the lips and I didn't really know what I should do about that. But Kyle, being full of surprises, moved past my mouth to the side of my neck, gently pressing his lips to the hollow part just behind my ear.

I wanted him, all of him, in that moment. So much it hurt. It was a different pain from the cuts and bruises, but nevertheless, it hurt. It was sort of like an empty ache, like your stomach gets when it's completely devoid of food, though it was more in my chest. It was my heart. My heart hurt.

It took almost every ounce of self-control I had not to just grab him and press my lips to his. It would be so easy. But I kept thinking of Cartman. And of Stan. And of my mangled face, and the terror I still felt at it all.… So I did what my other, lesser instinct was telling me to do – I ran the hell out of there.

All of this sped through my head in less than a second. I pulled away from Kyle quickly, leaping up off the couch, ignoring the vertigo that still plagued me. "It's getting late," I said, despite the fact that I had absolutely no idea what time it was. And then I got myself out of there like nobody's business.

"Kenny," he called after me, but I didn't look back. I knew if I did, I wouldn't be able to force myself to walk out that door.

* * *

A/N: Well there you have it, folks. If you're confused, don't worry, there's more explanation later. Like I said there are I think about two chapters left to this? I don't know, I don't divide them up before-hand, so I may try to squish it all into one. Haven't decided yet.

Anyways, please review =) I'll be way more likely to update.


	8. You're Shouting So Loud You Barely

_You, A Feeling I Can't Deny  
Chapter Eight - You're Shouting So Loud You Barely Enjoyed This Broken Thing_

A/N: Hm, I'm kind of surprised, some more people actually voted in my poll! Remember, it's still up until Friday, so if you haven't voted yet go do it ;)

* * *

I slunk into English the next morning just as the bell rang – perfect timing on my part, unfortunately ruined by the fact that our teacher was not in the room yet, so everyone was still talking. As soon as I entered the room, Stan gawked at me. Kyle turned away so that I couldn't properly see his face.

"Jesus, Kenny, you too?" Stan asked as I sat down. "What, did you three like, get in a gang fight or something last night and not invite me?"

"What are you–" I turned to Kyle. He was blocking most of his face from my view with his hand. I grabbed his wrist, moving it out of the way to reveal a deep purple bruise surrounding one of his eyes.

"What the fuck did you do," I demanded.

"Nothing he didn't deserve," Kyle muttered, yanking his wrist out of my grasp and looking away.

"I told you not to do anything!"

"Have you _seen_ your face, Kenny? He fucking destroyed it! Your pretty face… I couldn't just let him get away with that."

Wait a minute. Did he just call my face pretty? I glanced over at Stan. I don't think he heard, and if he did, he wasn't reacting in any way. He seemed pretty confused, and it made me wonder how many details Kyle had actually filled him in on.

"You promised me you wouldn't," I accused, lowering my voice just in case Stan actually was listening.

He rolled his eyes. "I thought that was kind of dead after you ran away."

Ouch. He had to bring that up. Right in front of Stan, too.

"You have no fucking idea–" I started, but cut myself off, deciding against finishing that thought. I sighed. "How much did you tell him?" I hissed, jerking my head in Stan's direction.

"Nothing. All that he knows is what he's figured out himself." Kyle seemed pretty peeved at me. I swear, those eyes… _daggers_, I'm telling you.

"What's your problem?"

He exhaled, exasperated. "Oh, as if you didn't know. I mean, it's not that you ran away. I made a mistake, I'm sorry, I totally get why you left. It's not that. You _lied_ to me, Kenny. Not cool."

My stomach sank. "Wh-what?"

"Yeah, me and Cartman had a nice little chat yesterday while he was begging me not to pound his face in. And according to him, you knew exactly the reason why he beat you up."

I could feel my face heating. "Well, did he tell you the reason?" I asked cautiously.

"He told me the reason he told you," Kyle replied. I wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but okay.

"Then you should know why I didn't want to tell you."

"Is it true? Do you?"

"Do I what?" I stalled. Of course I knew exactly what he was asking.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Do you have a boy-crush on the Jew?" he inquired slowly, as though I were incredibly dense. Somehow it was terribly strange to hear Cartman's wording coming out of his mouth.

Well there were several options for me here. I could tell him the truth. And have him what? I had no idea how he would react. Especially with Stan, his _boyfriend_, sitting right there. Or I could outright lie. But I felt bad lying. I had been doing too much of that lately.

Or I could leave it open to interpretation, successfully evading both the question and the mysterious results. "What do you think?" I hissed, turning around to face front just as the teacher walked into the room. I ignored his pokes to my back all through class, pretended I didn't hear him angrily whispering my name, and once the bell rang I disappeared from the room before he had even gotten out of his seat.

It kind of made me wonder, though. What he would make out of my response. He had to know the truth, right? Now that he knew Cartman's reason? He had to know that I only ran because I was scared. Scared of how much I wanted him.

Lunch was difficult. You don't really realize how few friends you have until you get in a fight with all three of them at once. Well, okay, I wasn't really fighting with Stan, but I knew he'd be wherever Kyle was. Either way, I realized I had absolutely no one to sit with, and there was no way I was going to sit alone. Which would also leave it open for one of the others to come over and try to talk to me. And so I took to wandering the halls by myself instead.

After about ten minutes of wandering aimlessly, I heard voices in the next hall. I crept to the corner, eavesdropping.

"–have absolutely no idea what you did. You didn't see him when I found him," said the first voice. My heart jerked when it reached my ears. A voice I would recognize anywhere.

"I was helping," the second, also familiar voice sneered. Of course it would be him. Of course. "He should be thanking me."

I peeked around the corner, and finally I could see them. Just as I suspected, a little ways down the hall stood Cartman and Kyle, arguing about… what, exactly?

"Causing a person – one of your friends, no less – permanent emotional trauma is not classified as helping them!" Kyle yelled. Then he sighed, lowering his voice. "Look. If you had seen him… I'm not sure how long he was laying there even, but from what you told me it had to be at least three hours. He was all curled up in a ball, and whimpering and shaking, and just the look in his eyes, he was so scared–"

"He's a big boy, he can take care of himself," Cartman muttered. He didn't have any obvious physical damage done to him, but he shifted his weight to his other foot and proceeded to wince. Jesus, what exactly did Kyle do to him?

I thought about their words, trying to figure out the topic of their argument. …Wait a minute. Were they talking about–?

"He was _crying_, Cartman. Kenny never fucking cries. Ever. You know that as well as I do." He sounded more sad than angry now. "I know you think you were doing a good thing, but my point is, you hurt him bad. Not just physically."

"But, Kahl," Cartman whined. The familiar drawl that had mostly faded as we got older crept back into his voice, and for just a moment he sounded just like we were eight again. "I needed to put Kenneh back in his place."

I had never really noticed how much taller than Cartman Kyle is. I mean, I know Kyle's a tall guy, but what with Cartman sounding like a kid, Kyle's slim figure was towering over him.

"Kenny's not your lapdog," Kyle said slowly. "He's not going to do what you want just because you hit him. There's a reason he didn't show up to lunch. He's avoiding us. All of us."

"Why would he avoid you? You two have been fucking inseparable lately."

He bit his lip, looking at the ground. "Let's just say I did something I shouldn't have and I don't think he likes me very much right now."

Wait. Kyle thought I didn't like him? Was he really that oblivious? Couldn't he see that he pretty much was my life right now? That it was paining me so much to stay away from him?

"So," Kyle said after a long silence. "You still haven't told me the _real_ reason that you did this. I know what you told Kenny, and also what you told me which sounds a bit more like the truth, but I want the real deal this time."

Cartman grimaced, looking away. So does that mean that he lied to me last night? "I just… You guys are my friends, Kahl. I may not always show it but I really do care about you. Kenneh and Stan and even you on occasion. And I just–" his face turned red and he stopped speaking.

"Out with it," Kyle urged. I ground my teeth together in silent anticipation of what Cartman would say.

"Ever since you and Stan got together and you and Kenneh became friends all of you have been fighting and the four of us are drifting and I don't like it," he spat in a rush, like he couldn't get the words out fast enough.

Kyle's eyes widened slightly in shock. My own jaw had dropped, my mouth agape. "R-really?" Kyle squeaked incredulously, his voice gone up an octave from utter astonishment. Cartman nodded just slightly, almost imperceptibly. "Holy shit, dude," Kyle whispered.

"And now you know why I didn't tell you," Cartman muttered, turning to walk away. Shit. I quickly ducked back around the corner, just in time. I don't think he saw me.

"Wait wait wait," I heard Kyle call. "You still didn't tell me why you thought beating Kenny up would help with that."

Cartman mumbled something incoherent. I cautiously stuck my head back around the corner. Neither of them were looking my direction anymore. "I guess I thought… that maybe it would scare him enough into staying away from you. Kenneh's my best friend, Kahl. You've been stealing him away from me. You've already got your hippie bitch, why do you need him, too?"

I knew Cartman considered me his best friend, but I think that was the first time he had ever actually said it with any true sincerity behind it.

Kyle flushed, frowning and chewing on a fingernail nervously. "…I don't know," he whispered, so quietly I almost couldn't hear it. "There's just something _there_, with Kenny… I can't explain it. But it's fucking with my head and I just can't let it alone. Besides, with Stan and me fighting so much lately, I just… It's nice to have someone else to talk to."

I'm sure if I could see myself right now, my face would literally be as red as Kyle's hair. I slipped back around the corner, deciding I had heard enough. Kyle had just… almost outright admitted to Cartman that he likes me. That is what he was saying, right? I think?

Goddamn why does life have to be so confusing?

Suddenly I made a decision, the thought popping out of nowhere. _I need to talk to Kyle_. It was a necessity for me to complete this desire. I knew I wouldn't do it at any point in the near future, but it would happen. I needed to tell him what I knew, I needed to tell him how I felt. A simultaneous hopeful flutter of my heart and sinking feeling of dread in my stomach occurred.

Christmas break was less than a week away. Maybe I could continue to avoid my problems until then and deal with everything after we got back to school.

* * *

A/N: Whew. This would've been posted yesterday but I was busy and also I decided I didn't like half this chapter and so I had to rewrite it. It's mostly the same up until the part right after when Kyle tells Cartman that he did something stupid and doesn't think that Kenny likes him very much right now (though obviously Kyle is completely oblivious). The rest of it was all written right now. So yeah.  
The next chapter is the last one, I'll post it either tomorrow or on Friday, depending on how busy I am =)  
Review please and I'll love you foreverrrr~


	9. Kind Of Like An Ending, But More Like A

_You, A Feeling I Can't Deny  
Chapter Nine - Kind Of Like An Ending, But More Like A Beginning_

A/N: Well, here it is at last! The final chapter =) Imma do a super-long author's note at the end, so enjoy the last chapter of _You, A Feeling I Can't Deny_.

* * *

Finally, Christmas came and went without a whole lot of hoopla. Christmas isn't a big deal in my house. We have the same tiny plastic tree we put up every year with one present under it for each of us. I don't mind the whole one present thing though, because we always got something really good that our parents saved up literally all year for.

This year I got a chocolate-brown down parka with a faux-fur-lined hood. It was reminiscent of the parka of my childhood years, other than the color, and it was a bit longer, too. It was brand new, not second-hand like most of my clothes, and extremely necessary due to the awful condition my previous jacket was in.

My mom looked delighted as she watched me open it, my eyes lighting up as I pulled her into a bone-crushing hug and said, "Thank you thank you thank you I have no idea how you afforded this but it's amazing and I love it thank you."

Three wrapped gifts sat in the bottom of my closet, two Christmas and one Hanukkah present. I wondered if they would ever be delivered to their intended owners.

The next few days were boring, those dull, lazy days in between the excitement of Christmas and New Year's. I did nothing other than sit around the house and go to work. It wasn't like I had any friends to hang out with anymore.

The Wednesday of this slow week started like all the rest of the days. Drag self out of bed between eleven and noon. Drag self downstairs for breakfast/lunch. Drag self into shower. Wake up finally. Finish shower and get dressed.

It was during the last of these steps that there was a knock on my bedroom door. "Just a sec," I called, figuring it was mom wanting me to do some errand for her before I went to work at six.

I only had my shirt half-on when I opened the door, my hair still a dripping mess. Pulling the fabric over my head, I discovered that the person standing there was very unexpected and most definitely not my mother.

"Kyle? What are you doing here?"

"Your mom let me in," he explained, blushing lightly. "I need to talk to you."

I moved aside to let him into my room, closing the door behind him. We both walked over to sit on my unmade bed.

It was quiet then. I was waiting for him to speak. I knew he would when he was ready. I didn't push him.

"It was you," he said at last.

"What?" I asked, confused. I had no idea what the hell he was talking about.

He looked at me. His electric green eyes seemed a bit duller than usual. Sadder. "A few weeks ago I told you how I used to think Stan was the only person I would ever really like, but how that's not so much the case anymore, and you asked why. Well, that's why. It was you."

"O-oh," was all I could manage. I tried to think of how to respond, how to form a coherent sentence. I had pretty much already known this, of course, but to hear him actually say it, to admit it to my face…

I remembered something else suddenly, Another question that had been left unanswered – but this time, he had been the one asking. "Yes," I said.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I have a boy-crush on the Jew," I admitted quietly, so softly I could barely hear myself. I really hope he heard, because there is no fucking way I'd be able to say it again. But then he smiled. He knew.

There was another long silence. I felt like he had something else to tell me. And so I waited.

"I broke up with Stan," he announced finally,

Oh. …Wait. "What? Why?"

He sighed. "Did you not hear what I just said like five minutes ago?"

So… he broke up with Stan… for me?

"That's not the only reason, though," Kyle continued. "We were already having issues. And I found out about how he told you to stay away from me. And I don't want you to stay away from me," he finished softly, gently running his fingertips over my cheek. It was a nice touch, and I pressed my face into it slightly. He smiled.

"I also found out that he was the one who put the idea in Cartman's head that you liked me."

"What?"

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, dude. Cartman's not perceptive enough to come up with that on his own. I don't think Stan really knew what he was doing. He was just upset. So he told Cartman about his concerns. Cartman was already afraid he was losing you to me just because we had been hanging out so much, but once he heard that it sent him over the top. He decided something had to be done."

Well, that's an interesting new development. Stan's not usually one to talk about his problems with other people, especially not with Cartman. But you never know, I guess.

"How'd he take it?" I inquired.

"Surprisingly well, actually. I think he kind of saw it coming. Though I'm not sure if it was just an act for me. At least he hasn't gone all Raven on our asses yet, knock on wood. I guess some people are just better off as friends, nothing more."

"So what does this mean for us?" I asked shyly, feeling both nervous and excited all of a sudden.

Kyle gave a timid smile. "I'm willing to give us a try if you are."

There was no reason for me to even have to think about this. "Yeah," I said immediately. "Yeah, I'm ready." As the words came out of my mouth, I knew they were true.

He leaned forward, very slowly, his lips pressed to mine lightly. I could feel in his kiss just how scared he was. I had thought I was the only one that was scared in this situation – terrified of what he might do, of what I might do, of what had already happened, of what was yet to come. But he was just as terrified as me.

I felt like I should be doing something. I had never been kissed before – I was always the initiator of the kisses. It was rather disorienting.

He pulled away, smiling nervously, shyly. "What are you doing, idiot? You're supposed to kiss back," he teased softly.

Oh. Right. I acted on impulse then, wanting nothing more than to feel those lips on mine again. I pressed my hand into the small of his back, pulling him to me. I crushed our mouths together. And then we were kissing, really kissing. Just like that.

It was easy, then. It just felt so natural. So… right. It was definitely different than kissing a girl. His lips were less soft, more insistent. He parted his lips against mine then, and there was no way to describe it other than that he tasted like _Kyle_, plain and simple. Our tongues slid together for one devastatingly perfect moment before we separated for air, quickly reattaching.

The kisses were frantic at first, like we were just trying to get as close to each other as physically possible. But then we slowed it down a bit and found an easy rhythm. It was like we were perfectly in sync with each other.

Eventually he pulled away and kissed a soft trail down my jawbone and to my neck. I tilted my head slightly to allow him better access. His teeth softly nipped at the skin, his tongue sliding punishingly over the spots. But my lips were wanting again so I used one hand to lift his chin so his face was even with mine. Our mouths engaged in another gentle kiss, before we separated a last time.

We just stared at each other for a minute, our chests rising and falling rapidly with our now-heavy breathing. He fell forward against me, burying his face in the crook of my neck. His shoulders shook, but I couldn't determine whether it was with silent laughter, or sobs. I wrapped my arms securely around him. We sat like that for a long while.

"For a minute there, I thought you were going to reject me again," Kyle mumbled. I could feel his lips moving against my skin.

"I don't think I could've even if I had wanted to," I replied softly.

"Did you want to last time?"

I snorted. "Do you really have to ask?"

"Then why did you?" I could feel him frown.

"I was scared," I admitted quietly. "Terrified, in fact. I didn't know what to do, and there was the whole Stan issue, and the fact that I had just gotten beaten up–"

"Yeah, not great timing on my part," he interjected with a small laugh.

"Not really, no."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out. It was a random whim, I don't know what I was thinking. Just, seeing you all hurt like that, and…"

Neither of us said anything for a moment. His warm, even breaths caressed my neck. "I never did thank you for standing up for me against Cartman," I said at last.

"You told me not to do anything and I didn't listen," he reminded me.

"I know. But I'm glad you didn't." I smiled. "No one's ever stood up for me like that before."

"Eh, it was nothing," Kyle said modestly.

"What did you even do to him?" I wanted to know suddenly.

He pulled away from my shoulder finally, grinning. "I have a lot of anger. I just decided to unleash it on Cartman. You have no idea how good it felt. I don't regret it for a second."

Kyle stayed at my house that day until it was time for me to go to work. He even drove me there in his green Mazda so that I didn't have to walk in the all-too-familiar snow that was now falling from the sky yet again.

On New Year's Eve, Cartman invited the three of us over. I think he was trying to make amends for all the problems he had caused over the last month. I vowed, as a New Year's resolution, that I would find a way to do the same with Stan.

Stan didn't talk much. He seemed sad the whole time, and refused to even look at Kyle. But at least he was here, right? It was because of this that I knew he would be okay. It would just take time. And even though we liked to at grown-up, we were really still just kids. Which meant we still had all the time in the world.

Kyle and I didn't tell Stan and Cartman about what had happened between us over break, but I think they pretty much figured it out for themselves, especially after Kyle and I showed up together (he had stopped by to pick me up a little while ago, before we got a bit… distracted). It was painfully more obvious when Kyle more or less kidnapped me into the kitchen at 11:59. I eyed him curiously. We could hear the countdown coming from the television in the other room. He grinned wolfishly, and just as it reached zero, he captured my mouth with his own.

"Happy New Year," he mumbled against my lips. I pulled him closer, never wanting to let go.

It's kind of weird how as soon as one thing ends, it causes another to begin. We're moving forwards all our lives, through countless beginnings and endings and even more beginnings. We make friends, we lose friends. Sometimes we discover that someone is meant to be just that – a friend. And sometimes they become much more.

But no matter how many endings and beginnings we experience, life always goes on.

Just like that.

**The End.**

* * *

A/N: Phew, it's done! Okay, time for my really long author's note. First of all, I want to thank the few people that actually took the time to review, your words mean so much to me and really, it makes me more than a little bit happy to log into my email and see a new message from one of you =) Thanks to all the rest of you readers, even though you didn't tell me what you thought of this... But I still appreciate that at least a few people are reading it, even if they don't write me a review.  
Thank you to all the people who voted in my poll, STyle option #1 was the winner, and because of you I'll have the new fic posted shortly! I'm planning on starting it... oh, right when I finish posting this =)  
Even though I already said this in a previous author's note thanks once again to my awesome friend DJ aka SpazzKitty who helped me tremendously with the plot on this, and for not getting mad at me for the numerous South Park references I make on a daily basis (her personal fandom is Hetalia).  
And now, in case you didn't notice, all the chapter titles and even the story title actually were song quotes. So I feel the need to list the songs I used. _I don't own any of these songs, lyrics, and/or artists, and I claim no rights to them._

Story Title -- Stay Young (by We The Kings)  
Chapter One -- Singled Out (by New Found Glory)  
Chapter Two -- Glitter and Glue (by Ultimate Fakebook)  
Chapter Three -- Luna (by Thin Dark Line)  
Chapter Four -- Dizzy (by The Goo Goo Dolls)  
Chapter Five -- Belt (by Say Anything)  
Chapter Six -- Memory (by Sugarcult)  
Chapter Seven -- Runaway (by Something Corporate)  
Chapter Eight -- The Archer's Bows Are Broken (by Taking Back Sunday)  
Chapter Nine -- Shameless (by Say Anything)

Once again, thank you all!  
And for the last time, reviews make me a very happy biscuit. Hope to see you soon! ^_^

~Alice


End file.
